HOLYOKE — Artist Michael Karmody knows a hard truth about concrete — that it is often associated with sidewalks and jails, not attractive things.

But, serious question. What does concrete actually look like? For Karmody, the only serious answer is, “anything you want.”

In his Holyoke workshop and in the spaces throughout the world where he is commissioned to work, he is involved in an ancient struggle.

“The Romans had the same problem that we currently have with concrete — they were convinced of its utility, but were unsure how to make it beautiful,” he said.

But, the concrete romantic added, “We have the opportunity to make it beautiful.”

Karmody doesn’t exactly use a formal company name, but when he does he uses, “Karmody Worldwide,” a name which isn’t an exaggeration.

When commissioned for a project, the Northampton resident said, “I’ll get on an airplane — I’m happy to do so.”

Over the past 12 years of his 20-plus year career in custom concrete design-work and production, he has worked alongside other artisans in his shop who form a collective and pool rent for their spacious industrial headquarters at 388 Dwight St.

“I think a lot of people find concrete brutal,” he said. “In fact, I first discovered concrete when I was a kid.”

Before the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, a young Karmody was able to witness firsthand the concrete structure that separated democratic West Germany from Soviet-controlled East Germany.

“That really struck a chord,” he said. “A statement was made to disconnect people from each other ... But concrete doesn’t need to be thought of that way. Concrete can be absolutely beautiful.”

In addition, German gun emplacements, built in 1941 as a defense wall by the Nazis using 17 tons of concrete, and other brutal creations “hooked” Karmody to the substance.

But among the uses for concrete, Karmody said, “It can be a very intimate or warm companion in the human environment,” despite concrete’s harsh reputation.

Many of his early commissions were for concrete countertops. He also showed some of his work with fireplace mantle pieces.

Another facet of concrete he said is that, “You can very easily build simple things that are durable.” Among these durable testaments Karmody has created in the past was a headstone for a friend and people Karmody knew who all had died in a car crash.

“People are visiting that. Those people are being remembered,” he said. “It was kind of a heart-wrenching thing to do, because family was over for the casting, and there is a time capsule of things that are precious to the individuals within the stone.”

And unlike the Berlin Wall, Karmody calls concrete a, “democratizing thing,” rather than dystopian, and “human,” rather than drab.

Just now he is completing a project in Dorchester which will utilize concrete as a democratizing, liberating thing. There he has been commissioned to complete 50 stools for a public space with the purpose of staving off gentrification.

The stools, he said, will be a sign, “to not build, to not infill, and give those residents a green space.”

In this case, he said, “Concrete makes an obvious non-brutal solution.”

Even cornhole and concrete can be a combo.

In the corner of his shop is a concrete cornhole board, which never needs to be taken in during the rain. Karmody’s speaker — yes the thing he listens to music with — is literally concrete.

Furnishing his workspace is a several-ton concrete work desk, as well as ¼-inch thick slabs thin enough to use for cabinetry.

Some current projects have yet to be cast and are wooden or plaster moldings, including the wood frame of what will become a concrete bathtub, and a plaster cast that will be a concrete hemispherical fire pit.

These are just drops in the bucket of concrete’s potential, which can also be tinted with a variety of colors, hues, and textures.

His business originated with Karmody’s ambition to do art and make a living, a choice that has given him success and no regrets.

“If I am having a bad day I go to work,” he said.

In the early 2000s, after living in Tucson, Los Angeles and San Francisco, Karmody returned to western Massachusetts, where he had gone to college.

Karmody was born in Scotland, on the edge of the North Sea. At the age of 7, his parents brought him to the United States, settling in upstate New York.

At Hampshire College he started in international relations, but he came out a fine arts major.

He worked out of a handful of different spaces before moving into his shop at 388 Dwight St., including a stretch of time in Florence. Currently, he has one full-time employee and a team of two others that rotate as needed.

Despite going from international relations to fine arts in college, Karmody maintains a love for history, and explained how he is in the business of unchanging things.

“I’m very interested in the dynamics of history. History is a multifaceted read, and it’s different every time you do,” he said. “But concrete is one of those defining materials.”

So defining in fact, that the Pantheon in Rome, made of concrete, can still be seen in almost its original glory.

“It was mankind’s largest dome for 1,600 years, still standing, still being used,” which is why a trip to the ancient temple remains on Karmody’s bucket list.

His life’s work is tied to continuing the human tradition of architecture, which he gave a negative diagnosis of in 2025.

“Architecture used to be a part of people’s lives 100 years ago, but not so much now,” he said. “It’s like we all live in cookie cutter things. We all drive around in the same transportation pods.”

Samuel Gelinas can be reached at sgelinas@gazettenet.com.